Remember Tomorrow
by MillieW
Summary: Ron and Harry decides to have some fun and try to forget the pressures of the raging war for a night. Hermione is not impressed. RonHermione. Post HBP oneshot.


**Remember Tomorrow**

Hermione started when she heard the crash coming from the kitchen. Closing her eyes she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself before returning to her book. _At least they're doing it here and not at some stupid bar_, she tried telling herself as her concentration once more was claimed by a large thud in the kitchen.

It was really a dense thing to do. Buy enough Firewhisky to get a Quidditch-team drunk, and set out to drink as much of it as possible in one night. It had been Ron's idea, naturally. The really stupid, juvenile ideas usually came from him anyway. Like snogging Lavender. Hermione frowned at the memory. And he still hadn't grown up enough to have, the not so juvenile, idea of snogging _her_! Moron!

He'd tried to convince her of joining them tonight. "Please Hermione, it's Harry's seventeenth birthday, he deserves a bit of fun!" As if you needed to swallow down a bottle or two of Firewhisky to have fun. Harry had been all for it, however, and when she had left them, they had already started to become groggy. By now they were probably long past that stage.

Hermione really couldn't believe that they were so irresponsible. What if there was an attack and the two of them were passed out drunk? Now wouldn't that be a scene? Voldemort crashing in for a fight and finding his adversary passed out on the floor of a kitchen, ready to be killed.

She tried telling them that, of course, but to no avail. "And why would Voldemort attack us tonight of all nights? When he haven't before I came of age." Harry had said. "Right, and he doesn't even know where we're here," Ron had filled in, getting eager nods from Harry. Well at least _she_ wouldn't be fooled into something as foolish as getting herself drunk. She would sit here and try to read up on defence spells and antidotes. At least _that_ would be to some use tomorrow.

Another crash followed by a large moan caught her attention again. This time she was slightly worried, since it wasn't followed by the hysteric laughter that had been the noise telling her that everything was alright with them before. In fact things got awfully quiet.

Opening the door from the study, and walking across the small hallway over to the kitchen, Hermione kept her wand ready, just in case. She quickly put it away, however, when she walked into the kitchen and saw Ron sitting on the floor, staring into an empty bottle. With an exasperated sigh, Hermione walked over to him.

"Her- hiccup-mione!" he exclaimed, happily when he saw her. "Could you get that bottle – hiccup – for me?" He asked and pointed to an almost full bottle on the table. Crossing her arms in front of her Hermione looked down on him.

"No!" she said firmly. Ron looked confused.

"Why?" he asked looking like a four-year-old faced with a very hard problem to solve.

"Because you've had enough!" Hermione said in a sharp voice. She hated that voice. It made her sound bossy, controlling, and well… motherly. She did not want Ron to think of his mother when she spoke to him. Then again didn't people say that boys liked girls that reminded them of their mothers? But no, she did not want to sound like Mrs Weasley, and she did want for Ron to think of her in a completely different light than that. But then she did not want to give him any more alcohol. He most certainly had had enough.

"Mione, please," he said tilting his head and giving her what she assumed was supposed to be a pleading look, although it mostly looked like he was feeling dizzy. He probably was as well. He could after all not even stand up properly. Right now however she was not interested in whether he was dizzy or pleading.

"Since when do I have a pet-name?" She said slowly, trying not to cringe too much at the shortening of her name.

"Since I'm too drunk to say your name pro…prob…prop…you know what I mean," Ron slurred with a happy grin. Hermione shook her head taking another deep breath, straining herself to the utmost not to lose her temper. _He is going to be sorry in the morning, no need to argue with him now. Just a simple 'I told you so' when he is complaining about headache or throwing up will make up for this, _she told herself, surprised that it actually worked in keeping her temper in check. Well, almost anyway.

"All the more reason for you not to drink anymore," she said as calmly as she could.

"Ginny's not complainin' about Harry drinkin'" Ron continued to slur. "He is up in 'er room righ' now, not that I wan' to know wha' they are doin' there," he added with an even wider grin than before.

"Probably nothing, giving the amount the two of you've been drinking," Hermione said firmly, hoping for Ginny's sake that whatever Harry had decided would last past his drunken state. Ginny hadn't shown Harry, but their break-up had hurt her quite a bit, even if it most probably was temporary. At least Hermione hoped it was temporary, but then who knew with the war raging.

"What's that s'posed to mean?" Ron asked so surprised that he almost sounded sober.

"That large amounts of alcohol causes impotence, Ron. What ever Harry had in mind… Why are you laughing?" she interrupted herself staring at the red-head now rolling on the floor clutching his stomach while barking with laughter.

"You said impo…impot–"

"Impotence?" Hermione helped him out, immediately regretting it as Ron had another fit of laughter. With a sigh she turned away from him picking up the bottle on the table to put it in a cupboard. It might always come in handy to clean wounds in the future, after all. If nothing else was around to be used or if there wasn't time to brew the right potion.

"Mione, come!" Ron said, after a few more minutes of laughing, trying to sit up on the chair but failing and knocking it over again. "I hurt my arm, will you kiss it and make it better?" he whined rubbing his elbow. Hermione shook her head in disbelief as she walked over to him. _He really does see me as a mother-figure, doesn't he?_ She thought, tired.

"You need to go to bed," she said, ignoring his words and helping him to stand up. Ron wobbled and grabbed her tighter to stay upright, sending tingles down her spine. _Don't get any ideas in your head, Hermione! He's just trying to stand,_ the little voice of reason inside her head said, making her frown as she tried to focus on getting Ron to start walking. Ron was not complying. For some reason he was giggling almost uncontrollably.

"Ron, what is the matter?" Hermione asked him, a bit too sharply.

"Go to bed," Ron giggled on, holding her tighter than she could ever remember him holding her before. "You, me, bed," he continued. Hermione shuddered when she felt his lips against her cheek. Unfortunately, the surprise also caused her to lessen her grip on Ron, causing him to stumble and fall to the floor again, this time bringing her with him in the fall.

Lying splayed on his back on the floor, Hermione on top of him, Ron started laughing hysterically again. Feeling Ron move beneath her, his hands still wrapped around her, Hermione flushed, acutely aware of exactly what parts of her body were pressed against his. _Hermione, calm down, he's just drunk!_ She told herself. _No need to get worked up about this._

"It's not like anything is going to happen anyway," she mumbled to herself.

"Why not?" Ron's voice startled her. She hadn't intended for him to hear that. How on earth was she going to explain it? She couldn't very well tell him the truth. That she imagined him kissing her like he kissed Lavender. That she had stopped talking to him all last year, not because she wanted him to stop date Lavender as much as she wanted him to date _her_ instead. "I'm not imp…what you accused Harry of being earlier! I can prove it to you!" Ron said agitated.

It took a while for Hermione to understand what he was talking about. When she did she could feel her whole body turning pink. He was talking about…with _her_, and she was still in his lap, and she could feel that he most _definitely_ did not have those kinds of problems at the moment.

"Ron, I…you…we should…uhm." She was interrupted when he pressed his lips against hers, his tongue running along her bottom lip before pushing its way inside her mouth. It was wet and sloppy and warm and not at all what she had imagined, but it was Ron, and he kissed her and she was possibly the happiest girl in the world. For just a moment she allowed herself to get lost in the kiss she wanted for so long, almost enjoying even the rather disgusting taste of Firewhisky that still lingered in his mouth.

She didn't complain when Ron turned them around so she was lying on a floor that was too dirty to think about; nor did she break the kiss when she felt the knot on the floor-board sticking into her back, possibly, no probably, leaving a bruise. When Ron's hand made its way underneath her jumper, squeezing her breast far too tight for comfort, she felt as if she was in heaven. So what if he didn't know what he was doing? At least he was doing it to _her_!

That's when realisation hit her. He was drunk. He might not want this at all. He would most certainly not even remember this in the morning. This had not been the way she wanted their first kiss to be. She had imagined it so many times, and in none of her fantasies had Ron been too drunk to know who he was actually snogging. Suddenly terrified she pushed him off.

"What's wrong, 'ermione?" he asked, struggling himself to get her name right this time. "Did I do something wrong?" he asked.

Looking at him she could see that he was seriously concerned. Feeling a flutter of hope, she smiled.

"I just don't want to do anything you might not remember in the morning," she said sounding remarkably calm considering the swarm of butterflies that just made its way inside her stomach.

"But, I'll remember. Promise!" Ron said eagerly, pulling at her.

"Tell you what. If you remember any of this in the morning, and it is still what you want, then come and talk to me," Hermione said, fighting down the urge to snog him senseless while she had the chance. "Now let's get you to bed," she added before he could protest. With a tug she pulled him up, supporting him all the way to his bedroom. He tried to pull her down as she placed him on his bed, but she was sober and he was drunk and really didn't stand a chance. Not that it would have mattered. He fell asleep almost the second his head hit the pillow, snoring loudly. Smiling, Hermione leaned in and kissed his forehead lightly.

"Tomorrow," she whispered conjuring up a little note scribbling down a sentence on it. Charming the text to look like Ron's handwriting, she placed the note where he was sure to see it when he woke up. She might want him sober, but it didn't hurt to remind him either, she thought with a smile as she closed the door behind her.

In the room Ron turned, completely unaware of the note lying on his bedside-table.

_I snogged Hermione tonight! She didn't mind in the slightest. Remember to do it again. _


End file.
